


Just a bit of color

by zinjadu



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Silly, and apparently go insane, but in a funny way, the mice will play, the things you miss when you're gone, when the cat is the way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 18:13:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14062575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zinjadu/pseuds/zinjadu
Summary: Gift for an amazing artist, who wanted to see what people get up to when Phoebus Trevelyan isn't around.As it turns out.  A lot.  Most of it pretty dumb.





	Just a bit of color

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lavendermalibu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavendermalibu/gifts).



Blue sky, nice and all, some clouds not too bad.  Sure yeah, nice day.  Birds singing and all that rot.  Sittin’ on her roof, no cookies though.  So the day could be better.

 

What to do?  What to do?

 

Inky’s gone.  Gone gone, Inky gone, ugh, blech.  Phoebus.  What a poncy name.  Phoooooeeeebuuuuuuusssssss.  Gone, though.  So’s _it_ , the demon.  Good.  Better when its not here.  Yuk.  And Solas, even worse.  Seeker’s gone, too.  Like her… most of the time.  Except when she says something poncy.

 

Ah, but Inky’s gone and there’s no _life_ here.  Skyhold. 

 

Could go explorin’, but been everywhere.  And Dagna’s busy.  Busy, busy, like a bee, only better cause she don’t got a stinger.  And a better bum.  Cause no stinger, obviously.  Hahaha, no stinger.

 

Off the roof now.  Fell, hope no one saw.  No, no one saw.  Right, up we get.

 

Still bored, look around.  What do I see?  What do I see?  Bull training.  With Blackwall.  Vivi on her balcony, all la di da.  Pies!?  No.  Too she’d be expecting that.  Gotta be sneaky, sneaky, sneaky.  Sneak to the library. 

 

“Hm, no not that one.”  Dorian, talking to himself, looking at books.  Books, books, books, always books.  Books on _magic._ Never mind.  Find someone else.  Varric?  Yeah?  Nah.  Still _bored_.  No fun, no color.

 

So. 

 

Fix it, yeah.  Yeah!

 

***

 

Letters, Varric thought to himself, always letters.  To the Merchant’s Guild, to the various factions in Kirkwall, and worst of all to his publisher.  It would be nice, for a change of pace, to go out into the field.  He’d rather deal with Venatori and Templars than some of these letters.  It was always one thing after another when it came to Kirkwall.

 

Sighing, he threw down his quill and rubbed at his eyes.  It was late, the fire burning low, and he was tired.  The Inquisitor was out and about.  He thought he knew where, but he’d have to check that damned big map to make sure, and oh boy, did Curly get upset when someone moved the pieces around.  And Varric could admit that just being in that room made his fingers itch.  Just to get the man to lighten up.  A little.  Or at all.

 

Just as he stood, stretching to work the kinks out of his back, and when the hell did _that_ happen?  You’re getting old, Tethras, he thought to himself.  Standing, stretching, he heard a crash, and then a laugh.

 

“What the hell?” he muttered and knowing he would regret it, he made for the War Room.  He was through the door and saw Josephine, slightly furrowed brow, just reaching the door.  He followed on her heels, and they walked into chaos.

 

Varric wasn’t sure what was hanging from the rafters except that it was colorful, but there was no sign of what made the crash, though was pretty sure what, or more precisely, _who_ had been laughing.

 

“No, no I am not having this,” Josephine muttered.  “Not again.”

 

“What’s the problem Ruffles?  It’s just a bit of paper, I think.  Colored paper never hurt anything,” Varric told her.  He thought he kind of liked it.  Added a little life to the room.  Less grim.  Oh sure, the Inquisition had to appear  all stiff upper lip, but there weren’t any notables around for once, especially with their fearless leader gallivanting about.

 

“She is doing this on purpose to drive me mad,” Josephine said, eyes narrowing as she glanced about the room.  “First the bucket of water, and now this?  I cannot trust it.  It must come down before it triggers some kind series of events that results in ruined clothes!”  Varric watched with raised eyebrows as Josephine strode back out, calling for her assistant, and giving clear orders.  It didn’t seem so bad, he thought.  Just a nice touch.

 

Really, how bad could it be?

 

***

 

Dorian normally would have been out in the field with Phoebus, but as much as he loved the man, it really was too much to go out into the wilderness over and over again.  Occasionally, a little research had to be completed for once, instead of abandoned the moment another crisis came along.  The library was also _his_ for the moment, Solas away for once.  While there were other mages about, not having to wrangle with Solas over whatever book they were both trying to use at the same time was a welcome change of pace.

 

At least Vivienne had her own reading materials.

 

That was, of course, when he heard a very loud horn.  Or what he thought was a horn. 

 

Frowning, he marked his place and went to the window to see, and what he found was… not usual. Forgetting research for a moment, Dorian moved quickly through the library and joined Vivienne on her balcony.

 

“Vivienne, I hate to impose, but you have the better view,” he said by way of hello, and she gestured airily, as if it were of no importance.  There, he gazed upon the face of madness.

 

Or, more accurately, circus performers.

 

Tumblers, jugglers, people eating fire, swords.  It was chaos.  And then there were the clowns.  How or why this was happening was certainly beyond him, but it had a certain amusement factor to be had as Cullen came charging out of his office like an angry druffalo, demanding to know what was going on.

 

“Oh no,” Dorian said to himself, as if he could sense what was about to happen.

 

“I do believe our dear Commander has bitten off more than he can handle, don’t you think, Dorian?” Vivienne asked him, and he glanced at her out the corner of his eye.  She was smiling.

 

“Surely, you wouldn’t want our Commander to lose face over some clowns, Lady Vivienne?” Dorian said, affecting shock.

 

“Certainly not,” she replied, and waved her hand, the pie flying off its intended course towards the back of Cullen’s head to land in the grass at his feet.  “But it does serve to remind him to be a little more cautious.”

 

***

 

“Okay, now this is just getting ridiculous,” Bull growled, the monkey stealing the sandwich he had been about to eat.  The colored streamers everywhere, that had been nice.  Pretty, even.  Then there had been the performers.  How they got here or why, he didn’t look too closely at because sometimes a little unexpected fun was, well, fun.  But this?

 

They were taking his food!

 

“Get back here you little bastard,” he grumbled, grabbing for the creature.  He _hated_ monkeys.  Why were there _monkeys_ at Skyhold?  The thing capered away, capered, like a… like a damned monkey!  He chased it across the tavern, but it leapt up to the second floor then was out the window.  He burst out of the door and saw… a freaking menagerie. 

 

Lions jumping through hoops and bears balancing on giant wooden balls and… was that an elephant?!

 

“What the fuck!?” he yelled.

 

“Yeah, Chief, its ah, gotten a little strange out here,” Krem said, coming up on his blind side. 

 

“First it’s the paper, the it’s the performers, and now its animals?  What the hell is going on?” he asked, but he already knew.  Sera.  Somehow Sera was behind this.  He liked mayhem as much as the next man, but damn this was too much.

 

Then the trumpets sounded.

 

The Inquisitor was coming back.

 

***

 

Phoebus worked his shoulders, hoping that there was a hot bath waiting for him when he got home.  Home.  Skyhold.  One and the same now.  A place of relative peace in a world that clamored for his attention.  The scouts had sounded the trumpets, and there would be work to do, papers to sign.  Josephine and her lists, Cullen and Leliana with their reports, but if there was a moment to be had, he would find it.  With Dorian if he was lucky.

 

“Inquisitor!  Please, you do not want to go any further!” Cullen called out to him, running towards him from under the portcullis.  He frowned, not sure why the Commander was barring him from his own castle, of all things.  Unless there was something dangerous going on, of course.

 

“Cullen, has something happened?  Is everyone alright?” Phoebus asked, sliding down off his mount and holdings its reigns.

 

“Everyone is well, I assure you.  It is more that, I… you…” Cullen fumbled at the words, at a loss for how to proceed, but before either man could speak, there was a strange noise, like a trumpet but not a brassy note.  This was… different.

 

“What is that?” Phoebus asked and walked his horse on, to the sound of Cullen’s resigned sigh.

 

That was when Phoebus saw it.  Jugglers, acrobats, clowns, performing animals, lions and bears he recognized, but there were these massive grey creatures with tusks and ears and long noses, and that was the source of the trumpeting noise.  He heard Cassanda gasp behind him, and Solas actually laughed at the sight.  Cole, the strange boy, merely said, “she made it happy.  She can do that without hearing them.  How?”

 

Phoebus wasn’t about to start untangling _that_ statement, and thankfully Dorian appeared, sauntering through the chaos as if it were part of every day life now.

 

“Dorian, it seems I missed something,” Phoebus said.  Dorian smiled, his eyes dancing even as he affected a sigh and leaned against Phoebus.

 

“Only a little, nothing important,” Dorian replied.

 

Phoebus was fairly certain he then heard a familiar giggle-snort from somewhere nearby.


End file.
